Who Can Be Happy and Free in Russia? Part 10

"'Tis strange!" say the peasants, "By what kind of magic Can one single peasant Gain such a dominion All over the country?"

"No magic he uses Save truthfulness, brothers!

But say, have you ever Heard tell of Prince Yurloff's 540 Estate, Adovshina?"

"We have. What about it?"

"The manager there Was a Colonel, with stars, Of the Corps of Gendarmes.

He had six or seven a.s.sistants beneath him, And ermil was chosen As princ.i.p.al clerk.

He was but a boy, then, 550 Of nineteen or twenty; And though 'tis no fine post, The clerk's--to the peasants The clerk is a great man; To him they will go For advice and with questions.

Though ermil had power to, He asked nothing from them; And if they should offer He never accepted. 560 (He bears a poor conscience, The peasant who covets The mite of his brother!) Well, five years went by, And they trusted in ermil, When all of a sudden The master dismissed him For sake of another.

And sadly they felt it.

The new clerk was grasping; 570 He moved not a finger Unless it was paid for; A letter--three farthings!

A question--five farthings!

Well, he was a pope's son And G.o.d placed him rightly!

But still, by G.o.d's mercy, He did not stay long:

"The old Prince soon died, And the young Prince was master. 580 He came and dismissed them-- The manager-colonel, The clerk and a.s.sistants, And summoned the peasants To choose them an Elder.

They weren't long about it!

And eight thousand voices Cried out, 'ermil Girin!'

As though they were one.

Then ermil was sent for 590 To speak with the Barin, And after some minutes The Barin came out On the balcony, standing In face of the people; He cried, 'Well, my brothers, Your choice is elected With my princely sanction!

But answer me this: Don't you think he's too youthful?' 600

"'No, no, little Father!

He's young, but he's wise!'

"So ermil was Elder, For seven years ruled In the Prince's dominion.

Not once in that time Did a coin of the peasants Come under his nail, Did the innocent suffer, The guilty escape him, 610 He followed his conscience."

"But stop!" exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely A shrivelled grey pope, Interrupting the speaker, "The harrow went smoothly Enough, till it happened To strike on a stone, Then it swerved of a sudden.

In telling a story Don't leave an odd word out 620 And alter the rhythm!

Now, if you knew ermil You knew his young brother, Knew Mityenka, did you?"

The speaker considered, Then said, "I'd forgotten, I'll tell you about it: It happened that once Even ermil the peasant Did wrong: his young brother, 630 Unjustly exempted From serving his time, On the day of recruiting; And we were all silent, And how could we argue When even the Barin Himself would not order The Elder's own brother To unwilling service?

And only one woman, 640 Old Vlasevna, shedding Wild tears for her son, Went bewailing and screaming: 'It wasn't our turn!'

Well, of course she'd be certain To scream for a time, Then leave off and be silent.

But what happened then?

The recruiting was finished, But ermil had changed; 650 He was mournful and gloomy; He ate not, he drank not, Till one day his father Went into the stable And found him there holding A rope in his hands.

Then at last he unbosomed His heart to his father: 'Since Vlasevna's son Has been sent to the service, 660 I'm weary of living, I wish but to die!'

His brothers came also, And they with the father Besought him to hear them, To listen to reason.

But he only answered: 'A villain I am, And a criminal; bind me, And bring me to justice!' 670 And they, fearing worse things, Obeyed him and bound him.

The commune a.s.sembled, Exclaiming and shouting; They'd never been summoned To witness or judge Such peculiar proceedings.

"And ermil's relations Did not beg for mercy And lenient treatment, 680 But rather for firmness: 'Bring Vlasevna's son back Or ermil will hang himself, Nothing will save him!'

And then appeared ermil Himself, pale and bare-foot, With ropes bound and handcuffed, And bowing his head He spoke low to the people: 'The time was when I was 690 Your judge; and I judged you, In all things obeying My conscience. But I now Am guiltier far Than were you. Be my judges!'

He bowed to our feet, The demented one, sighing, Then stood up and crossed himself, Trembling all over; It pained us to witness 700 How he, of a sudden, Fell down on his knees there At Vlasevna's feet.

Well, all was put right soon, The n.o.bles have fingers In every small corner, The lad was brought back And young Mityenka started; They say that his service Did not weigh too heavy, 710 The prince saw to that.

And we, as a penance, Imposed upon ermil A fine, and to Vlasevna One part was given, To Mitya another, The rest to the village For vodka. However, Not quickly did ermil Get over his sorrow: 720 He went like a lost one For full a year after, And--though the whole district Implored him to keep it-- He left his position.

He rented the mill, then, And more than of old Was beloved by the people.

He took for his grinding No more than was honest, 730 His customers never Kept waiting a moment, And all men alike: The rich landlord, the workman.

The master and servant, The poorest of peasants Were served as their turn came; Strict order he kept.

Myself, I have not been Since long in that district, 740 But often the people Have told me about him.

And never could praise him Enough. So in your place I'd go and ask ermil."

"Your time would be wasted,"

The grey-headed pope, Who'd before interrupted, Remarked to the peasants, "I knew ermil Girin, 750 I chanced in that district Some five years ago.

I have often been shifted, Our bishop loved vastly To keep us all moving, So I was his neighbour.

Yes, he was a peasant Unique, I bear witness, And all things he owned That can make a man happy: 760 Peace, riches, and honour, And that kind of honour Most valued and precious, Which cannot be purchased By might or by money, But only by righteousness, Wisdom and kindness.

But still, I repeat it, Your time will be wasted In going to ermil: 770 In prison he lies."

"How's that?"

"G.o.d so willed it.

You've heard how the peasants Of 'Log' the Pomyeshchick Of Province 'Affrighted,'

Of District 'Scarce-Breathing,'

Of village 'Dumbfounded,'

Revolted 'for causes Entirely unknown,' 780 As they say in the papers.

(I once used to read them.) And so, too, in this case, The local Ispravnik,[27]

The Tsar's high officials, And even the peasants, 'Dumbfounded' themselves.

Never fathomed the reason Of all the disturbance.

But things became bad, 790 And the soldiers were sent for, The Tsar packed a messenger Off in a hurry To speak to the people.

His epaulettes rose To his ears as he coaxed them And cursed them together.

But curses they're used to, And coaxing was lost, For they don't understand it: 800 'Brave orthodox peasants!'

'The Tsar--Little Father!'

'Our dear Mother Russia!'

He bellowed and shouted Until he was hoa.r.s.e, While the peasants stood round him And listened in wonder.

"But when he was tired Of these peaceable measures Of calming the riots, 810 At length he decided On giving the order Of 'Fire' to the soldiers; When all of a sudden A bright thought occurred To the clerk of the Volost:[28]

'The people trust Girin, The people will hear him!'

"'Then let him be brought!'" [29]

A cry has arisen 820 "Have mercy! Have mercy!"

A check to the story; They hurry off quickly To see what has happened; And there on a bank Of a ditch near the roadside, Some peasants are birching A drunken old lackey, Just taken in thieving.

A court had been summoned, 830 The judges deciding To birch the offender, That each of the jury (About three and twenty) Should give him a stroke Turn in turn of the rod....

The lackey was up And made off, in a twinkling, He took to his heels Without stopping to argue, 840 On two scraggy legs.

"How he trips it--the dandy!"

The peasants cry, laughing; They've soon recognized him; The boaster who prated So much of his illness From drinking strange liquors.

"Ho! where has it gone to, Your n.o.ble complaint?

Look how nimble he's getting!" 850

"Well, well, Little Father, Now finish the story!"

"It's time to go home now, My children,--G.o.d willing, We'll meet again some day And finish it then...."